Seeing Red
by DrawnToTheRhythm
Summary: One-shot (set during Season 10): Ba'al is made to help SG-1 for a second time, but some thoughts are best kept to oneself. Implied S/J.


Disclaimer: SG-1 are not mine, I make no money from this, no copyright infringement intended, yadda, yadda, yadda, you know the drill by now.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%

The ruined temple was deathly silent save for the sounds of shuffling boots and the whirring fan inside Sam's laptop. Ba'al tapped away at the keys of a console across the other side of the room as he begrudgingly helped the people he despised break the code on the ancient device.

Jack hovered in the doorway pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. He was bored but Ba'al's presence made every nerve in his body tingle. Hate was too nice a word for his feelings towards the bastard who had tortured, killed and revived him over and over just for his own amusement. If they didn't need his help, Jack wasn't sure he would have been able to stop himself from tearing Ba'al's head from his shoulders. Still, just because he had to put up with it didn't mean that he had to like it.

He'd been requested back on SG-1 for this mission for precisely that reason. General Landry understood that Jack O'Neill would *never* underestimate what Ba'al was capable of doing, given the opportunity, and it was Jack's job to ensure that he never got a chance to stab the rest of SG-1 in the back, literally and figuratively. Jack always had one eye trained on his former captor and, so far, he hadn't stepped an inch out of line. Maybe he could sense the threat Jack posed. Or maybe he just hadn't spotted an opportunity. Either way, Jack wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

As Ba'al continued to work on the console, Sam knelt down in front of the altar, placing her laptop on a silver insulated container which currently held a naquadah generator, just in case they required the extra power source. Somewhere in this place was the key to finding … some really important doohickey that had something to do with fighting the Ori. Whatever. Jack knew that more often than not these things turned out to be a dud. There's no such thing as a free lunch, his mother had always told him and she was rarely wrong. Same applied to Ba'al helping them. There wasn't time to question his motives but they all knew that there was some reason behind the offer. The Goa'uld were nothing if not predictable in their questionable loyalty to their word.

Ba'al had ceased typing and appeared lost in thought. He was staring at the altar behind which Carter was currently working. Jack's eyes narrowed and he subtly altered the direction of his pacing so that he could see what had caught Ba'al's eye. Just beyond the edge of the altar, Jack could see a flash of blonde hair and green BDUs but as he approached further, he noticed that Sam was bent over a secondary console underneath the frame of the altar. Her BDU jacket and t-shirt had ridden up from her belt and exposed a strip of pale flesh just above her waistband. As she reached further inside the console, her waistband tugged down a couple of inches, her belt catching on her hip preventing her BDUs from moving any further. She wiggled her hips to reach the cabling at the back of the altar and Ba'al imperceptibly tilted his head.

Jack's eyes grew wide as he realised what the bastard was doing. He took a louder than necessary step towards the former System Lord as both a warning and a distraction but Ba'al was in no hurry to cease and desist. Instead he slowly turned his head to Jack, his gaze following after his face, and raised an eyebrow. Keeping his voice low so that Sam couldn't hear, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jack.

"For a member of the Tau'ri, she's quite pleasing to the eye," He commented distractedly before turning to look Jack square in the eye, noting the sudden red flush rising up Jack's neck and the tensing of the tendons in his neck, "Under different circumstances, I might find a more pleasurable use for her than mending broken machines." The ease with which he spoke was at odds with the sinister tone his voice had taken on. Jack bounced on his heels. "Wouldn't you agree?" He asked Jack.

Jack casually twisted his P-90 around to his side, checking that the safety was on as he did so and his gaze momentarily dropped to the floor. With a loud crack, Ba'al's head hit the cold stone wall behind him as Jack pinned him to the wall with his forearm pressed against Ba'al's windpipe. He spluttered for air before grinning broadly at Jack's visceral reaction to his words. Anger poured off him in waves. The clatter of a spanner echoed around the room as Sam spun on her knees and jumped to her feet at hearing the loud noise from behind her, weapon in hand.

"Sir?", she yelled, both alarmed and questioning.

Jack held Ba'al's gaze with a cold fury.

"As you were, Colonel. Nothing to worry about," he barked. "We're on the clock here."

Sam lowered her P-90 and her brow furrowed as she took in the sight of her former CO pinning the smarmy Goa'uld to the wall.

"Sir?" She queried again.

"Everything is fine, Carter. Carry on, that's an order."

Sam straightened and the frown disappeared under her military mask.

"Yes, Sir."

Once Sam had her head buried in the console once more, Jack pressed his arm tighter against Ba'al's throat. Ba'al coughed. Jack leaned in closer to the system lord's face and lowered his voice for Ba'al's ears only.

"Listen to me you sick son-of-a-bitch. As of this moment I don't give a rat's ass about my standing orders. If it were up to me I would dismember you right this second but, seeing as how we're not quite done with you yet, we're perhaps better off keeping you breathing for the time being. But, I swear, *one* more comment like that and there won't be enough Jaffa in the galaxy to stop me from ripping you limb from limb with my bare hands. Got it?"

Ba'al smirked and Jack loosened the pressure on Ba'al's throat before wrapping a hand around his neck and lifting him a clear foot off the ground, pinning him solidly to the wall with his spare forearm. Ba'al struggled and gasped as he tried to release himself from Jack's grip but Jack was stronger than he looked, especially for a Tau'ri warrior of his age. Just as Ba'al began to see white spots in front of his eyes, he acquiesced and nodded frantically. Jack waited a few seconds before slowly lowering him to the ground. Ba'al cleared his throat and pulled down his jacket which had ridden up in the struggle. Jack stared him down, his gaze all fire and ice.

Ba'al opened his mouth to speak but at Jack's slight movement forwards, he closed it again abruptly. Turning back to the console he began to slowly resume his earlier work, all the while Jack's gaze burned a hole in the back of his head. Never in the whole time he had been in his torture chamber had he seen Jack so resolutely determined. Here, on SG-1's turf, he had to admit that it had him a little unsettled. His one bargaining chip was his knowledge but, as Jack had pointed out earlier, he was only there because time-saving was an issue. Ba'al knew that Sam would eventually figure it out oh her own, she didn't really need him. And once Jack realised that, all bets were off. It suddenly dawned on him why Jack's symbiote had come back for his mate. It wasn't the Tok'Ra at all, it was Jack. His refusal to leave his mate behind… Ba'al risked a glance across at Sam and then quickly back at Jack. The steely gaze that Jack returned to him told him nothing. And everything.

Wow, Ba'al thought to himself, inwardly smirking. I can't say I saw *that* one coming. Jack O'Neill and the 'Great' Samantha Carter? I guess sometimes the Universe does drop you on your head and surprise you after all!

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%%*%*%*%*%*%*%**%

A/N: This was something inspired by a conversation with a fellow fandom member. Hope you liked it, feedback is always welcome and appreciated!


End file.
